


Bruxism

by centaur



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:12:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1220719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centaur/pseuds/centaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dave,” he says. “You’re grinding your teeth again.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruxism

**Author's Note:**

> technically written as day 1 of the 30 day nsfw challenge. prompt: cuddling

Despite his hopes for a full night of sleep, daybreak isn’t what pulls him from unconsciousness. He opens his eyes to darkness and though his blinds definitely do wonders to keep the morning out of the room, everything is too grey-shadowed and inky for it to be anywhere close to dawn. Dirk rolls his head to the right, cheek squishing heavily into the pillow, and checks the time on his alarm clock. It’s very early, not that his body has any concept of what actually constitutes an unacceptable time to be awake. 

So far he’s gotten three hours of sleep, which happens to be three more hours than he’s gotten in the past two days. That’s two whole REM cycles and he can’t complain because it was starting to look like the dark pits of sleep-bruised skin surrounding his eyes were slowly trying to swallow them. The unimpressive amount of sleep he managed will at least keep the circles from getting any worse (if that was even possible in the first place) but, honestly, he might as well have tattooed the rings around his eyes for all their permanence. No amount of rest will ever make up for the years and years of never being fully asleep, of endlessly balancing dreamself and wakeself and any other splinters he had. Three hours is good for him.

When he lolls back so he can stare at the ceiling for a while and determine whether unconsciousness wants to happen again tonight, he hears what woke him up. A loud, grating sound to his left, like two rough stones being rubbed against each other. Quickly rolling to his side, his hands firmly clasp his sleeping brother’s face between them, palms settled over his cheeks. 

“Dave,” he says. “You’re grinding your teeth again.” Dirk punctuates with a few squeezes of his hands and the furious gnashing of Dave’s mouth immediately stops, the sound disappearing with it. 

Dave’s eyelids twitch and he mutters some dreamy, garbled nonsense words at Dirk without truly waking up. Dirk squeezes Dave’s cheeks again. His brother slowly bats his long blond lashes, a single pupil managing to focus through the lids that refuse to open more than a couple of centimeters. His voice is thick and slurred with sleep. “Huh?”

“You’re grinding. Where’s your mouthguard?”

“My…?” Dave trails off groggily, disoriented. Dirk watches as his tongue slowly runs along the edge of his teeth, verifying that oh yeah, he is not actually wearing a mouthguard right now. He presses a palm into his slightly more open eye, arches his back and straightens out his legs and free arm in a slow stretch. Both eyes are open and blinking out sleep when he’s done.

Dirk keeps watching him. While Dave stretches, the sheets shift and the lean line of his arm leads Dirk’s eyes to his torso, completely bare and now uncovered down to the peak of his hip. He looks like a life drawing model, fabric draped elegantly over his lower half, arms posed and curled above his head. He looks beautiful. He looks exhausted. 

“I forgot to put it in,” Dave says through a yawn before stretching again. The sheets slide even lower on him when he kicks out his legs and Dirk’s mouth goes dry when he glances at the patch of tightly curled blond hairs peeking out just above the edge of the fabric. “Must have fallen asleep while recuperating from workin’ on my fitness last night.” His voice still has the slow drawl of sleepiness, but his mouth has started up and is running as smoothly as it usually does. Dirk tears himself away from his below-navel gazing and Dave is looking at him, much more awake and clearly pleased about being ogled. 

“I’m doing this seriously intense program right now,” he continues, casually sliding his hands down his own chest in something that might pass as another stretch to the uninitiated. “D90X. I dunno if you’ve heard of it but shit’s rough. Fucked me over pretty hard last night.” Dirk raises an eyebrow expectantly as he follows the path of Dave’s hands, and Dave leisurely barrels on. “Like, no lie, during the workout, I literally had a schlong repeatedly ramming into my ass. I think the name actually stands for Dong 90 Extreme. Or Dirk, I guess. Dick. It could be interchangeable.”

“Sounds like a great routine,” Dirk says sincerely and the smile lines at the corners of Dave’s eyes deepen. 

“People seem to appreciate what it does for my physique, yeah.” His fingers splay gracefully over the flexed muscles of his stomach, drawing Dirk’s attention downward once again. “So no complaints here.”

They could have sex again, Dirk acknowledges as he shifts forward and kisses Dave on the mouth. They both have morning breath and despite Dave purposefully exhaling through his nose so that he’s not breathing it all over, Dirk still tastes the sleep on his tongue. He doesn’t care. He shoves Dave’s hands off, only to replace them with his own determinedly searching ones, and Dave lets out a shuddering breath, wrapping his limbs around Dirk as quickly as his tired body will allow him.

They could have sex right this instant, but Dave really needs sleep tonight because he has a day booked solid with important meetings tomorrow. Reluctantly, Dirk withdraws his hands and stops trying to devour his brother. 

“You should put your guard on now,” Dirk suggests.

“Oh,” Dave says once it sinks into his mind that it isn’t go time. The slight disappointment in his tone fills Dirk with even more regret, makes it even more enticing to metaphorically raise his middle finger to Dave’s responsibilities by literally raising Dave’s legs over his shoulders. He kisses Dave slow and sweet to apologize.

“Mn, it’s cool,” he breathes after Dirk finishes slipping sorrys into his mouth. “You’re doing the bro thing and keeping me from throwing my life away in some fanatical pursuit of the Dick. That one person one the boat that’s all ‘put away that goddamn harpoon, Captain Ahab, you’re gonna hurt yourself.’” 

“You’re the only moby for my dick, Dave,” Dirk murmurs romantically, nuzzling his nose against the juncture of Dave’s neck and shoulder.

“Wow, please don’t say shit like that if we aren’t going to fuck afterwards,” Dave sniffs back in fake indignation and reaches to delicately pluck the piece of molded plastic out of the case on the bedside table. A quick inspection and he pops it into his mouth, pressing it into his top teeth with his thumbs. Then he makes a disgusting spit slurping noise, his tongue adjusting to the foreign object and new size of his upper jaw. Bizarrely enough, watching Dave licking his palate like a dog with a mouthful of peanut butter only makes Dirk antsy to kiss him again. 

“You sure you don’t want to go for round two?” Dave finally lisps around the plastic stuck in his mouth, nose scrunching as he gets acclimated to speaking with it in place. “Seriously, Dirk, how does this not do it for you?” Each S hisses out awkwardly and some flecks of saliva fly out with the words.

Dirk snorts and brushes his fingertips across Dave’s bottom lip while Dave clicks and grits his plastic coated teeth together experimentally. “It does. Very few things are more arousing than watching you put stuff in your mouth.” 

Dave’s lips curl wide to accommodate the guard when he grins.

After a pause to adjust the sheets across both of them, he draws himself up to Dirk and says, "It's your loss. All you'd have to do is slap some reins on me and I’d be ready to ride, dude." Not entirely sure what that is supposed to mean, Dirk tilts his head and Dave patiently taps a fingernail against his mouthguard. "It’s just like a bit,” he explains.

“No, it’s fucking not,” Dirk replies instantly, barely holding back further corrections on how bridles actually work. He shouldn’t have let Dave get to this level of consciousness because this is the level where he just spews out whatever is on his mind, no filter, no off switch.

Dave ignores him, aggressively latching onto pony play as his winning ticket to more sex, nickering seductively and tossing his head to swish his mop of hair around like a rowdy stallion. Dirk sighs softly and tugs his brother against him, guiding his face into his chest in hopes of muffling the whinnying noise that Dave is persistently continuing to make. It’s an objectively impressive impersonation, but now is not the time. It hasn’t stopped being far too early in the morning, the room is still devoid of any light, and no horse would willingly be awake right now. 

“Go back to sleep, Dave. You need rest.” 

“Neigh,” he mutters, defiant. Hands curled into fist-shaped approximations of hooves, Dave paws at Dirk’s back while Dirk rakes his hands soothingly through the knots in Dave’s mussed hair and doesn’t say anything. 

Pressed tightly to Dirk’s chest with no obvious means of escape, Dave finally relents. He blows air through his pursed lips like an exasperated mule and then, when all of the air has left his lungs, he switches to deeply breathing in Dirk’s skin. Dirk feels his brother’s fingers slowly uncurl from their fists and their tips push into his spine, clinging. Their legs tangle together under and with the sheets and they slide against each other, closer, seeking out as many points of contact as they can get, and it’s warm.

In the relative silence of the surrounding bedroom, it’s easy for Dirk to focus entirely on the frequency of Dave’s inhales and exhales, counting the seconds between each breath like sheep. The room is still very dark but it is even darker behind his eyelids.

This time, nothing rouses Dirk from sleep until the alarm clock buzzes and Dave pops his mouthguard out to kiss him good morning.


End file.
